Unholy Betrayal
by Angelustatt
Summary: Betrayed by one of his own, Castiel faces torture at the hands of Alastair. **Warning, not for the squeamish. Not a deathfic**


_A/N: I just want to start off saying that I'm not anti-Religion...and I'm definitely not Anti-Castiel. LOL This fic was simply borne from Kripke showing me that Castiel could be hurt...and well what SPN fan doesn't love some hurt? So yeah...blame him. I'm more the happy ending type of person... So...yeah. I guess I'm just hoping I don't offend with this fic. It wasn't my intention....oh and mind the plotholes. Cause I'm sure there must be some. LOL_

_Oh and it's definitely AU, cause the concepts I've used about Angel's and how they use vessels is all me. _

_Tara, this one's for you, mate. It's nice to have someone that gets my love of hurt/comfort. *hugs*_

**xxxxXXXXxxxx**

"How's it feel to be alone, Castiel?" The voice was oily smooth, with just a hint of a lisp. As if the words were not so much spoken, as slipped from his mouth through curled, sneering lips. "Sold out by one of your own."

"I'm never alone." Castiel kept his voice calm as always, his face impassive. No fear, no emotion. He wasn't going to show anything to this demon. They fed off fear, off pain, off suffering. Castiel had never felt fear, although pain was not unknown to him. Being a warrior for the Lord meant you took your share of pain in battle.

It was not unlike the pain humans felt, but keener. Sharper. Felt with an intensity that only a perfect being could ever know. Humans could not hear an angel's true voice because it would send them deaf. They could not see an angel's true form because it would send them blind. So pain? Angel's felt it on a level that would send a human being mad before their body burned to ash.

Looking around the room he was in, Castiel knew it had once been a church, holy and sacred, a place of worship for his Father before it had been defiled by demons. There was the faintest echo of his Father's presence in the shadows, in the dust, in the wooden frame of the building itself. But only an echo. Enough to give Castiel a measure of comfort in his current situation.

It reminded Castiel that he was never alone. Even when he was betrayed by one of his brothers.

Uriel had fallen, listening less and less to his Father and more and more to his own moral compass. Giving over to emotions that no angel should give in to. Like anger and pride. Finding the humans more disgusting each time he saw them. As though they were nothing but bugs under his feet that he would squash if they got in his way.

To see his brother think like that, saddened Castiel. Humans were beautiful, intricate, amazing creatures. A testament to his Father's wonder of design and creation. Living works of art that were ever adapting and evolving.

"_You listen too much to that…Mudmonkey, Castiel. He's coloured your thinking. Made you soft and weak. Made you too damn sympathetic to their plight, when we should just be wiping them out…starting with those Winchesters." Uriel's voice was full of utter contempt as he spoke._

_Castiel looked at his brother, shaking his head ever so lightly. "You know our orders, Uriel. I'm growing tired of this conversation. Dean Winchester has shown us that he can be trusted, that he can turn his brother away from the path Lucifer would have him walk. He's beginning to show faith at last…"_

"_Faith." Uriel laughed, the sound ugly and smug. "He thinks of nothing but carnal pleasures, speaks with profanity…and yet you continue to defend him. What do you see in him?"_

"_If you cannot see that for yourself, Uriel? Then you have fallen further than I realised…" Castiel's voice was soft and full of regret as he spoke. "I'm sorry I failed you…I should have seen the signs sooner." He didn't move as demons who had been watching, stepped into view at last, surrounding them. Castiel braced himself to fight instead, not seeing the final, ultimate betrayal when it was done. All he felt was a blinding, searing pain in his back, before he fell to his knees. The demons were rushing in as his world shuddered and darkened, Castiel falling to the floor, paralyzed and trapped in his human shell._

Castiel had woken up chained up within the abandoned church, suspended by his wrists and legs in a spread eagle position off the floor. Uriel was no where to be seen, having absolved himself of any blame.

"He thought he was doing the right thing, you know? Uriel? I swear I've never met a more arrogant, narrow minded prick…and I thought we had the market cornered on them." Alastair sneered, getting back in Castiel's face again. He'd spent the better part of the day cutting and slicing the human shell Castiel was wearing, only to have it heal up again within minutes. The damn angelic grace not only protecting Castiel, but his human host as well. Well that? Was all about to change. Alastair was done with playing games…

Castiel said nothing. He wasn't going to give the likes of Alastair the satisfaction of an answer. He merely watched the demon and his two companions with calm disregard, showing them that didn't warrant his attention.

"Go get that new toy of ours, boys. I think it's time we got this party started. See how that angelic voice of his sounds when it's screaming and begging…" Alastair held his hand out as one of the other demons walked over to an ornate box and opened it. As soon as it was open, both demons and angel could sense it's power and for the first time Castiel became uneasy. He knew what that was…what it could do.

The demon who had opened the box picked up the weapon contained inside, smiling wickedly for a moment before it began to burn him. A brilliant golden light burst forth from his eyes and mouth as the demon screamed before he suddenly burst into flame. He collapsed into dust moments later, the weapon dropping to the floor amongst his ashes.

Alastair curled his lip in irritation and sighed. "Honestly, it's so hard to find help these days with a decent IQ. You have to do everything yourself…" He glared at the remaining demon in the room, watching as it backed off, it's hands raised in a gesture of placation.

Picking up a slip of cloth from the floor, Alastair wrapped it around his hand, then picked up the weapon. It was long spear head of bronze, with a thin sheet of gold wrapped around it. An old weapon, revered for centuries for it's rumoured power and it's history.

Alastair approached Castiel, holding up the spearhead for him to see as he smiled like a shark, all teeth and imminent death. "The Spear of Destiny." He examined the spear, turning it over in his hands slowly. "The one that pierced Jesus' side when he was on the cross. The one weapon in the world able to hurt a perfect being…"

Castiel remained impassive, staring ahead and silently awaiting whatever his fate was to be.

"What? Nothing to say still?" Alastair moved in close to Castiel again, their faces barely inches apart. With a sharp thrust, he drove the spear into Castiel's side and watched as the angel's blue eyes lit up with pain.

Tears filled his eyes but didn't spill down his cheeks as Castiel fought to control the pain, his jaw quivering, his entire body beginning to shake as white, blistering hot heat seemed to radiate through his side. It was pain like he had never wished to have known.

Alasdair twisted the spear slightly, watching as blood ran from the wound and covered his hand. It was warm, the coppery scent of it filling the demon's nostrils and making him all but hum with delight. "Where's your God now?"

Another sharp thrust and twist had Castiel fighting back a gasp. He could feel more blood pouring from the wound, the pain so intense, to vivid, that it was taking all his willpower not to cry out to his Father for help. His human host was suffering too, the body struggling against the pain it was feeling, the damage being inflicted upon it.

Alastair pulled the spear free, watching as the vicious move flared pain again in the angel's eyes. "Still nothing to say? I'm so disappointed in you, Castiel. Where's all your arrogant, sanctimonious crap now? You always thought you were better than us…but the truth is? You're just the same. You were betrayed by one of your own. How's that feel, huh? How's it feel to know that Uriel was willing to lie to God himself and tell Him that you're dead?"

There was still no reply. Alastair driving the spear up into Castiel's chest this time, feeling it slide between the ribs and slice into a lung. Blood bubbled up Castiel's throat and coated his tongue before it spilled over his lips. He was trembling again, his blue eyes bright and shimmering. A hitching, wet gasp slipped from Castiel at last as Alastair pushed the spear in deeper, feeling the edges kissing bone.

"Say something."

Castiel clamped his jaw shut, a tear finally escaping to slide down his face. Every part of his body was lit up with agony. The spear sending shockwaves through his very soul, renting and tearing his immortal being.

Alastair snarled and clamped a hand around Castiel's neck. "Scream for me? And I'll make it stop. I'll end it quickly for you…"

It felt like his throat was being crushed, the blood welling up in his throat now choking him as he coughed and felt it rush over his lips and drip from his chin. But he wouldn't scream. His body quivering so hard that the chains suspending him were rattling. His human host was dying. The lung had collapsed, filling his chest with blood, the heart pounding frantically in a staggered beat that was starting to struggle and fail. No…No, he didn't want that to happen. His host was a good man, a righteous faithful man. He didn't deserve to die like this. Another tear escaped for the life that Castiel could feel dying inside him.

"You fanatical son of a bitch…" Alastair wrenched the spear from Castiel's chest, hearing the wet snick as it caught bone on the way out. He stepped back to assess his work. "No-one's going to find you. We have this whole place concealed from your fellow angels. They think you're dead…your God thinks your dead. And their right….but when and how long it takes you to die? Is up to you. I just want one scream…"

Castiel sagged in the chains, his head hanging now as blood dripped from his lips. He was shaking and weak, but silent.

Alastair stepped forward and grabbed Castiel by the hair, knotting his fingers up in it to jerk the angel's head up to look at him. The blue eyes were beginning to grow dull at last, losing their focus as the body Castiel was trapped in, died around him. "I've tried to be nice. I've tried reasoning with you. But there's just reasoning with you fanatics, is there? Fine…if you won't scream for me now? I'll cut the grace from inside you before this body dies…let's see if that draws out a reaction."

Driving the spear up under Castiel's ribs all the way to the end of the spearhead, Alastair felt it tear and rip through flesh, striking home at the very core, the very soul of Castiel.

His head snapped up, eyes wide and agonized as he gasped again, feeling the spear cutting and tearing at his grace, slicing away at his soul piece by piece as it was twisted and driven up under the ribs again. Each time with more force, in a new direction.

Blood was bathing Alastair's hand, pooling on the floor beneath Castiel in a thick, viscous puddle of red. The demon was smirking, enjoying every minute as he continued to pull the spear from Castiel's body, then stabbed it into him again and again.

Castiel sagged against the chains, bent at the knees, his wrists raw and bleeding within the shackles. He had no strength left anymore, hearing his host's heart stuttering more and more, barely able to keep a rhythm as it's bright life giving liquid continued to drip from his lips like scarlet rain.

Alastair grasped Castiel by the chin and lifted his fading gaze to meet his own. "Still with me, Castiel? Good…now tell me…does this hurt?" He sank two fingers into one of the bleeding and ragged wounds, deeper and deeper until he could feel it…Castiel's grace was just within his reach. His fingers enclosed around it, feeling it pulsating like a heartbeat, feeling the power within it as he began to pull it free.

Castiel was shaking now, blood spurting from his mouth as he gasped, a deep growl of agony rolling through his broken, tortured chest and up through his throat before his eyes started to roll back in his head. He had wanted to die without giving Alastair the satisfaction of hearing a sound, but the horrid sensation of his grace, his very essence being torn from him was too much to bear. It was everything Castiel was, his love, his spirit and the growing emptiness as the grace was pulled from within him, each tenuous tendril snapping free….felt like utter desolation. Nothing but bitter cold as his connection to his Father was severed.

Another scream ripped through the air, drowning out the agonised growl Castiel was making. Alastair paused, his attention shifting to over his right shoulder, his hand still buried in the angel's chest as he watched Sam Winchester drawing the demon out of his companion's body nearby. The move was costing the Winchester boy. He was trembling, blood dribbling from his nose as he exorcised the demon.

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this…but get your hands off my angel, you demonic son of a bitch."

Alastair turned to see Dean Winchester just off to his right, that knife the simpering demonic bitch liked carrying, in his hand. "Dean…you should know better than to interrupt me when I'm working. We had a conversation about that for what…the better part of six years? I learnt ways to cut that smile off your face that I've never forgotten…."

Dean swallowed, fear gripping his stomach as he stood face to face with the demon that had broken him. He pushed that down and forced a grim smile on his face. "So what? I was just the warm up to the big event? You know, Alastair….you're gonna hurt my feelings."

There was the muted thud of a body hitting the floor as Sam finished the exorcism. He was hunched over, one hand pressed to his forehead and his eyes squeezed shut in pain against the throbbing molten hot pounding within his skull. Ruby was right, his powers were getting flabby.

"Alright, Alastair…you've had your fun. Now how about you leave?" Dean suggested, taking a step forward. Over Alastair's shoulder he could see Castiel hanging limply in the chains, his head down. If it wasn't for the tremble that had settled into his limbs, and the soft pained gasp as he tried to move? Dean would have sworn they were too late.

"Or what? You really think an insignificant little pissant like you is going to make me do anything? Tell me Dean, have you told Sammy about our time together? How you cried? How you begged me to stop?"

"That's enough." Sam growled, seeing the way Dean was turning pale and remembering how he had broken down that day as he spoke of Hell. He didn't want to think about what it must have done to Dean, how awful it had to have been to break the strongest person Sam had ever met besides his father.

Lifting a hand towards Dean, Alastair smiled. "It's never enough…you should know that by now, Sammy…"

Dean gave out a grunt of pain at first, slowly dropping to his knees as he clutched at his chest. His heart was thundering against his chest, beating wildly like a little bird that was slowly being crushed in a giant's fist. "No…no, stop."

Sam took a step towards Alastair, his lip curling in anger. With a flick of the demon's head, Sam was thrown across the room, slamming into the far wall before he crashed to the floor.

With a slow, sickening, wet sucking sound, Alastair took his hand out of Castiel's chest. This was too good a chance to miss. He grasped the angel roughly by the chin and jerked his head up to look at him. "Don't you give out me yet, kiddo…I want you to watch this…"

He let go of Castiel and stalked towards Dean, watching the boy writhing on the floor. It didn't quite have the same appeal as what he'd done in Hell. That had been art, pure and simple. The slow, excruciating way he had broken Dean down, slicing flesh from tendons so he could make the boy dance like a bloody marionette. Flaying the skin from his body, inch by bloody inch. So many ways over so many years…this seemed so lacklustre by comparsion. Another gesture from his hand and Dean cried out.

It felt like his insides were being squeezed and twisted all at once. Rich, coppery blood filling Dean's mouth as he coughed and gasped. He couldn't breathe, his chest feeling like it was being crushed as the world started to grey out and darken.

Across the room, Sam fought the urge to groan as he came back to consciousness. Blood was covering one side of his face, making his eyes sting and burn as he swiped at it to clear his vision. At the foot of Castiel, lying in the growing pool of blood, was the spear.

Sam stumbled to his feet, staggering almost drunkenly across the room. He snatched up the spear, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder, feeling sick at the state the angel was now in. "Stay with us, Cas…"

"Sam…no…you shouldn't touch it." The words all but dripped out in a wet, bloody whisper. Castiel knew Sam would never listen to him, but the boy's demonic blood was putting him in danger.

The Spear was starting to burn Sam's hand, feeling like it was made of molten metal. Gritting his teeth against the pain, feeling his skin searing as Sam advanced on Alastair, the smell of burning flesh assailed him and made his stomach roll.

Alastair turned towards Sam, raising his hand again, determined this time to throw the boy so hard that his neck snapped. It would be interesting to see how quickly Dean fell apart with his brother lying lifeless at his feet.

Sam thrust the spear forward, burying it deeply into Alastair's stomach as the demon doubled over with a look of pure shock on his face. Bright, golden light began to pour from the wound and bleed out of his eyes and mouth. Sam released his grip on the spear and stumbled back, falling hard on his ass, sending a sharp spike of pain up his spine.

Alastair pulled the spear from his stomach, taking a few tottering steps towards Sam as the hunter scrambled backwards. Like liquid fire, erupting from the deep gaping wound in his stomach, blood poured from the wound, igniting the wooden floor where it touched. Alastair fell to his knees, the flames already licking at his clothes and igniting his whole body before he pitched forward face first and remained still.

Dean was already forcing his way to his feet, spitting out blood and holding his stomach as he moved, almost as if he was scared that it would suddenly tear open and spill his guts to the floor. Feeling sick and shaky but swallowing it down to move to Castiel's side. The entire room was lighting up with flames as Dean struggled with the shackles holding Castiel's right leg. Once that was freed, he reached up to the shackle holding his arm, seeing Sam to his left already working on the other shackles.

Between the two brothers, Castiel was gently caught before he could fall to the floor, his knees buckling under him. Both Sam and Dean were coughing hard now, the room thick with smoke that was making their eyes water and stealing their strength as they struggled towards the door with Castiel between them.

Dean kicked the door open, all three of them almost collapsing before they staggered out into the fresh air at last. Once they were free of the building and any danger, Dean and Sam eased Castiel to the ground. Dean all but fell to the ground in an ungainly sprawl on his ass, coughing up a mixture of blood and smoke that felt like tar as it came up.

Sam was hunched over next to Castiel, coughing and blinking rapidly against the blood still running into his eye. One hand was on the angel's shoulder as he lay on his back, eyes closed, covered in blood and unmoving.

"Cas…." Dean rasped, reaching over to feel for a pulse before he stopped. What the hell was he thinking? Angel's didn't have a pulse. But as his hand touched Castiel's shoulder, the angel's eyes flickered open.

"Easy, Cas…just take it easy. We'll get you some help…we'll.." Sam was fumbling with his words, trying to stay calm. But there was so much blood. How could there be so much blood? What did that mean for Castiel? Was he dying? Sam wished they have found him sooner but it had been sheer luck they'd even heard Castiel was in trouble at all. Ruby had come to them with what she had overheard on the demonic grapevine. The very thought of Alastair having Castiel had sent Dean into a mixture of panic and rage that Sam hadn't seen since Dad had been taken by Meg.

"How…how did you find me?" Castiel choked out, his eyes still full of pain as he turned his head towards Dean. "The demons. They hid me….from the other…angels. From…from my father…"

"Yeah? Well, they didn't figure on us, did they. Now come on, mojo on up and fix yourself. You can do that, right? I mean, you gave me a new body." Dean was trying to make light of the situation, his voice rough edged and sound like he was chewing gravel as he spoke. It was going to take a few beers to wash away the blood and smoke again.

Sam looked at his brother and saw the fear and concern in his eyes. It was scaring Dean to see Castiel this way, because an angel was supposed to be tough. Invincible…and yet Alastair had found a way to hurt Castiel. If an angel could be hurt this way, then how did Dean stand a chance of keeping Sam safe from the coming apocalypse? Of keeping anyone safe?

"This body…is dying…" Castiel whispered, lying deathly still, only his eyes roaming between the sky and the Winchesters, a sign of any life in him at all.

"So what are you waiting for? Go all…you know, glowy or whatever the hell it is you do and get out of there." Dean told him, glancing at Sam before he looked back at Castiel. It worked for demons, so why was Castiel wasn't doing the same and just looking for a new vessel?

Cas coughed suddenly, the trembling settling into his body again as his eyes widened, shining a stunning blue as he looked up into the sky with a sense of peace coming over him.

"Cas?" Dean leaned forward, his own eyes widening in panic. "Come on…don't do this."

"He's found me…" Castiel whispered, a warm smile curling his bloody lips as tears filled his eyes. "Close your eyes…now."

Sam and Dean both threw an arm up to shield their eyes as a bright light suddenly enveloped Castiel, brighter than anything they'd seen before and brighter then when Anna had become an angel again.

As it died down again moments later, the boys lowered their arms to see that Castiel had vanished. What did that mean? Was he dead? Had they screwed up by arriving too late? Sam gave Dean a worried look, before he saw Dean's eyes widen slightly.

"Dude, you're bleeding!" Dean scrambled forward to his brother, examining the gash on his head and letting out a sigh of relief that it was only a shallow wound. Wouldn't even require stitches, although like all head wounds, it was bleeding like a stuck pig. Dean gently took Sam's hand next and looked at the burns on it, tearing off part of his shirt to bandage the hand. "What the hell, Sammy? You got burnt by that thing?"

"Spear…I think it was the Spear of Destiny. As in the one that pierced the side of Jesus?"

Dean gave his brother a blank look.

"Dude, how the hell can you be saved by an angel and still not know about that?" Sam shook his head with a smile that quickly became a grimace as his head wound throbbed.

"Shut up, dude…come on. There's nothing else we can do here. Let's get back to the motel and get cleaned up." Dean struggled to his feet with a groan, still feeling like his insides had been through a tumble dry cycle…maybe a blender. Either way, he felt nauseous and sore. A few beers and some sleep would go a long way to making him feel better. Especially after he knew Sam was okay as well.

As the boys headed back to the Impala, Dean glanced over his shoulder to where Castiel had disappeared, angry at himself at thought that he might have been too late….

**xxxxXXXXXxxxxx**

Dean wandered out of the shower in just a pair of sweats, towelling his hair dry and noting that Sam was lying on the bed watching Dr. Phill. "Dude…you sure you didn't hit your head too hard?"

The only reply he received was a middle finger. Sam didn't even bother looking away from the Tv.

Dean chuckled and dropped the towel on the end of his bed before heading to the small fridge the motel room had come with, grabbing himself out a beer and one for Sam. He straightened up and turned to see Castiel sitting on his bed, looking clean and completely unharmed.

"Don't tell me you want a beer too?" Dean quipped, trying not to show just how relieved he really was to see the angel again. It had been two days since the church with no word.

"Thank you…but no." Castiel said as a smile twitched the very corner of his mouth. "I came to thank you for what you did for me. Both of you."

Sam sat up on the bed. "Cas, what happened the other day? You just vanished…"

"I was called home. The fire in the church destroyed all the magic the demons had used to hide me from my Father. So I was called home and healed."

"And the guy you've been wearing?" Dean indicated towards Castiel with his beer bottle.

"The vessel is safe and unharmed. We're not like demons, Dean. We do not enjoy burning up the form we have assumed." Castiel assured them.

"What about Uriel? What happened to him?" Sam inquired.

"Uriel…" There was a sadness to Castiel's voice as he spoke. "Uriel lied to the Lord. His punishment was swift…and not something you would wish to hear about."

"We'll that's something I guess. Can't say I'm gonna miss that guy at all." Dean admitted, taking a mouthful of his beer. He walked over to his duffel and picked a shirt out, placing his beer down to slide the shirt over his head.

"I have something to show you. A gift for your loyalty."

Dean looked up as Castiel stepped forward and pressed two fingers gently to his forehead. Instead of buckling to the floor unconscious, Dean felt like a switch had suddenly been flipped in his head. He could hear clearer than ever before for a moment, hearing thousands upon thousands of voices all saying the same thing over and over again.

Tears welled up in Dean's eyes as he swallowed thickly and looked at Castiel, desperate to know if what he was hearing was true. "Cas?"

"Dean?" Sam leapt to his feet and moved to his brother instantly, placing a hand on either shoulder to make Dean look at him, his brow furrowed with fear. "Dean, what's happening? What's wrong?"

"You brother has been given a moment to hear the angel's speak…it will fade soon. But the message they give is the truth, Dean. A gift to you from my Father for showing your faith in me. " With the sound of wings fluttering, Castiel was gone, leaving the brothers alone.

"Dean?" Sam was shaken by the sight of tears sliding down Dean's cheeks. "What…what are the angel's saying?"

"They're saying the same thing…over and over, Sammy. Thousands of voices all saying the same thing."

"What?"

"Sam Winchester is saved."

**End…….**


End file.
